


Bright Smiles, Dark Thoughts

by Jakathine



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Banter, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9021496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakathine/pseuds/Jakathine





	

Chirrut sat back in his chair as he listened to the hustle of the streets. He heard Baze settle into the alcove behind him, always wary, always on edge. He reached out to the left and grasped his staff before getting up. Without really saying anything Chirrut wandered off and heard Baze grumbling behind him.

Something about ‘just getting comfortable’. Chirrut smiled and smoothly moved his way through the press of bodies.

“I am one with the Force; the Force is with me,” Chirrut muttered as he sidestepped, the dust kicked up from a passerby’s trolly tickling his face. 

He continued to walk on until he heard the unmistakable rowdy voices and the heavy scent of alcohol. Chirrut stuck his staff in front of him gently tapping surfaces until he found the entrance and took the four steps down. Baze was no doubt behind him so he maneuvered his way up to the bar and ordered a Rummy Tonic for himself and a glass of water for Baze. 

Just as he though Baze came huffing up to the bar, about to make a fuss about the sudden departure, and settled for merely sitting at the stool next to Chirrut.

The bartender clinked both glasses down, pushing the Tonic closer to brush against the back of Chirrut’s hand helpfully. Chirrut thanked the bartender with a smile. The jingle of a bag told him Baze was counting out the credits necessary then sliding them across the counter. The bartender picked up the credits and let them be to enjoy their drinks.

“So what was all that for?” Baze asked, sipping on his water.

Chirrut picked up his glass and tilted it this way and that, enjoying the feeling of the liquid’s shifting weight in the glass, “Do I always have to have a reason?”

Baze took a deep breath, signalling an obvious no, but pressed on, “When do you not?”

A small smile flit across Chirrut’s face as he sipped at his drink, “Listen and wait.”

Baze sighed but pushed his hair behind his ears to hear better for whatever it is.

Past the noise of the chatter and the music Baze thought he heard an undercurrent hum of a large ship. It wouldn’t be uncommon since the Empire had turned the place into a kyber mining ground, but the ship size he was hearing sounded different somehow.

“It’s a Destroyer, very close. Closer than it usually is,” Chirrut said, breaking into Baze’s thoughts, “They’ve made a modification I believe; it sounds different.”

“A small adjustment maybe, probably with one of the main engines,” Baze suggested, draining the rest of his water in one long swig.

“Perhaps,” Chirrut tilted his head to the side, kicked back the remnants of his drink, and hopped off the stool to head outside.

Baze was close on his heels but Chirrut merely led him back to their usual spot. Chirrut settled himself at his little table and propped his staff against the wall, crying out his usual chant of a fortune for a trinket. Baze watched him in admiration, knowing how lost Chirrut feels no longer being a guardian but not knowing how he had been able to find something else for himself among the rubble of the past.

Guardian he was no longer over kyber but Chirrut managed to still remain a guardian of the people, encouraging belief in the Force wherever he went. Baze’s heart ached as he looked at Chirrut, knowing that there will be a day that they could not go on like this any longer but wishing that day may hold off yet. He touched Chirrut’s shoulder fondly and was rewarded with Chirrut reaching up and gripping his wrist in a confident hold before letting go.

With a sigh he settled himself back into his alcove, acting as Chirrut’s eyes and sometimes common sense, while wondering what else he had become and if in the end would it be worth it.


End file.
